


One More Chance XXII

by DancingHare



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingHare/pseuds/DancingHare
Summary: Vajarra reflects on the past and the future in Zangarmarsh.





	One More Chance XXII

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published August 6, 2008

Vajarra slid down from the hippogryff’s back, giving it a gentle pat before its handler took it to be unsaddled. The cool blue light and the dampness that hung in the air brought the memories back in a rush, and she was unable to fend them off. They had all taken that terrible journey, still wounded and aching from the losses that the blood-crazed orcs had inflicted upon them. Through the naaru’s grace, she had still had her entire family then; her father magnificent in his armor, keeping vigilant watch over all of them. Vajarra had wanted to cry, but there had been so many others who had lost so much more than their homes, she simply bit her tongue and did her best to help them. How could they have possibly known that their destination would also prove to be their undoing? She wondered now if Velen knew; if he’d simply accepted the Exodar’s imminent crash as acceptable sacrifice. He had to. If they stayed, the remaining survivors would be slain by the corrupted orcs; if they fled, many would be claimed when the Exodar crashed. Many, but not all. It was a difficult situation, and Vajarra could understand the choice from a logical standpoint, but she could not help feeling a bit angry.

She didn’t have many memories of the swamp, but she remembered that it was always wet, and rather cold, and smelled a bit strange. None of those things had changed since she’d last been here. Thankfully, the engineers had the good sense to build atop one of the enormous mushrooms, rather than in huts on the sodden ground. Here you could look out over the marsh, into the forest of stems, and it was almost beautiful.

Kestaan, the old Vindicator, was already here. She heard the soft scrape of his hooves on the wooden boards. “It is a lovely statue, isn’t it?”

She turned, her brows drawn, briefly puzzled until she saw it, looming behind him against the dark sky. Vajarra didn’t know if it was new, either way, she did not recall seeing it before now. It was a fountain, the figure of a draenei woman pouring water from two vessels. Below, water flowers floated lazily on the pond’s surface.

“A fitting monument,” he said, and Vajarra nodded silently. Everyone had lost something, some had lost everything. She wondered briefly which group he fell into. “Come around to this side,” he said, beckoning her over. “I want to show you something.”

Vajarra picked up the hem of her dress and walked across the boards, to where he stood on the other side of the statue. She looked up to it, and her breath caught in surprise.

What she had not seen from the other side of the statue, she saw now; the draenei woman held two girls, one in each of her arms. They were the same age, had the same features — twins. “I never noticed,” Vajarra said breathlessly. Only coincidence, perhaps, but it caught her off guard all the same.

“Hope,” the Vindicator said, “Hope for our future, for our children’s future, that we may live in a world of peace and harmony at last.”

Vajarra continued to study the statue, until finally she moved her gaze to him. “Is that why you asked me here, Vindicator?”

He allowed the faintest hint of a smile. “One reason, Anchorite. Come, look out over the marsh. Tell me what you see.”

She frowned a little, puzzled. That was an odd sort of question, the kind where the correct answer wasn’t the first one that came to mind. She stood at the railing, hesitant to get too close to the edge. “I see… mushrooms… the water.” She squinted up her a face a little, trying to see. “Oh, there are some creatures down there… a sporebat, I think.”

He nodded, though she was uncertain if she had answered correctly. “I see life, Anchorite. From the smallest Sporeling, to the largest mushroom… life thrives here in the marsh.”

Vajarra thought she understood, but she was still uncertain why he had asked her to come out here, in the darkness and rain, when she could have been back in the temple. “You never answered,” she said quietly, drawing her cloak around her for warmth.

“Well,” Kestaan said, scratching his tendrils thoughtfully. “There are often many reasons one might do something.” Vajarra sighed, and her exasperation must have shown in her expression, because he went on, reluctantly. “Do you wish to know what else I see, Anchorite?”

What was he talking about? She nodded, though she was still lost.

“I see a jewel, a bright point of Light in the darkness. I see someone who is need of care and protection.”

Vajarra was too stunned to do anything but blink blankly at him. She hadn’t told him her woes so he could use it as a means to take advantage of her. For all his talk of the Light, was he just like any other male?

“I-I’m flattered, but really, I’m fine,” Vajarra said, feeling her ears burn. He was old enough to be her grandfather, just what was he suggesting?

He was wounded by her protest, she could tell though he hadn’t said a word. She didn’t want to hurt him, of course, but was she supposed to agree to it simply because he had offered? Still, she did appreciate his concern, and she laid a cautious hand on his. “Thank you though, really.”

Kestaan nodded, that implacable expression upon his features once more. Whatever may have been there was now well hidden. “If you should need me… at any time, I will come.”

She thanked him again and excused herself, anxious to be out from beneath his gaze; it felt like she was being judged. Maybe it would be a good idea, she thought, chewing her lip as she settled into her room for the night, pulling the covers up to her chin. The inn was cold, even with the fire burning, and still felt damp even here. She no longer had Varul to take care of her, and Vassanta was busy at the front; would it be so bad to have the Vindicator with her? She had always had someone to protect her, to shield her from the harsh and dangerous world outside, and now there was no one. Why not just say yes, then? Vajarra had no answer to that as she blew the candle out.


End file.
